Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
Most of the crew was out of sight. I’d dropped a sound ward so no voices from upstairs would travel down while Dip Doody was here.
Shitty Ritchie was loud. Tim did a quick spell so that June looked her real age.
It would hold for a few hours. I realized as I fluffed up the pillows and Gideon stoked the fire that I was losing my human side.
Being Immortal, warts and all, was becoming normal.
That was good since I didn’t have much of a choice in the matter, but dipping in and out of the human world was getting tougher.
Too bad, so sad. Dip was human and Jennifer loved him. We would and could make the effort.
Jennifer was so delighted to see her man that she kissed him for five full minutes.
We made ourselves scarce and let her have her little make-out session in semi-privacy.
I was glad Candy Vargo was upstairs. She would have definitely suggested they get a room.
My dogs went nuts. Donna and Karen loved Sheriff Dip Doody almost as much as Jennifer did.
Dogs were excellent judges of character.
I’d always liked Dip, but my dogs’ seal of approval put him high on the food chain of good people.
Tim had whipped up some hors d’oeuvres. It was something wet and brownish on crackers.
He’d plopped a few strawberries on the platter for color.
It didn’t help. Dip, ever polite, had tried one then spit it out discretely into a napkin that Jennifer handed him.
Thankfully, Tim didn’t notice. No one else partook. It looked too much like poop on a Ritz.
The conversation thus far had covered the weather, the remodeling of the Piggly Wiggly which made it almost impossible to find laundry detergent and milk, and the hilarious news that a group of octogenarians in town had applied for a permit to open an escort service.
“An escort service?” Charlie asked, thinking he’d heard Dip incorrectly. “You’re pulling my leg.”
“No siree. No leg pullin’ from me,” Dip said with a shake of his head as he leaned back on the couch and put his arm around Jennifer.
“When I explained to Ethel Smith-Waterswund that an escort service is a business that supplies people for hire to accompany others to events and it usually includes sexual activities, she screamed.”
“Oh my!” June said, giggling.
“Oh my, is right,” Dip agreed with a chuckle.
“Old Ethel told me they thought an escort service was a bunch of teenagers who would help the elderly with yard work and escort them to the Piggly Wiggly and church. She didn’t believe me until I pulled up a couple of websites on the computer and proved it to her.
Lemme tell you, her second scream about broke my ear drum. ”
Jennifer threw her head back and cackled. “Well, I’ll be darned! Did she pop a hemorrhoid?”
Dip’s eyes grew wide. “How’d you know that, darlin’?”
Jennifer patted her beau’s chest. “Ethel can’t have a civil conversation without talkin’ about poppin’ a hemorrhoid. She is not one to dine with. She doesn’t understand the concept of dinner talk.”
“True that,” June agreed with a shudder. “I wasn’t even sitting with her, and she ruined my lunch at the diner last week by describing the size and texture of her ailment.”
“Lord, have mercy,” Jennifer said, fanning herself and topping off her wine. She sat back and cuddled with her man. “So, I take it that you didn’t issue a permit.”
“That would be correct. Anyhoo, how’s the baby?” Dip inquired of Gideon and me. “She sure is a cutie pie. Bet she’s gettin’ big now.”
“What bab…” Gideon began and was cut off when I jammed the heel of my boot into his instep. I covered his grunt of pain by talking a mile a minute.
“She’s great! So great. So, so, so great! Just great. So big now you wouldn’t believe it! Big like… really big!” I told Dip. Gideon shot me a grateful glance. I raised a brow. It would have been incredibly awkward if the father of my baby asked, “What baby?”
“Can I see her?” Dip asked, looking a little confused by my diarrhea of the mouth diatribe. “I gotta say, I just love the way babies smell.”
“She sleeping,” I said at the same time Gideon said, “She staying the night with Heather.”
“And umm… she’s sleeping,” I added lamely.
“Alrighty then,” Dip said, shooting Jennifer a what the heck is wrong with them look. “Seems like you’ve hired some security out here. Any problems that I need to know about? I could send a cruiser out daily if need be.”
“No,” Gideon lied through his teeth. “We’re doing just fine. I’ve invested in a new company that does home security, and the training is happening on our property.”
“Interesting,” Dip said, nodding his approval. “The gals and guys at the gate looked like ex-military to me.”
“Very astute,” Gideon told him.
My husband’s reply was vague enough to not be a lie and Dip Doody was quite pleased with himself that he’d guessed it right… or right enough.
We all sat in slightly uncomfortable silence for a bit until Tim broke it. “Shall we play a game?”
“I’m game,” Dip said with a chuckle at his pun. “My Jenn loves games. I’ve been brushin’ up so I can beat her one of these days. But she’s so dang good at everything she does, I don’t know if I can even come close.”
Jennifer positively swooned. Tim nodded in fatherly approval.
“Ohhhhhh, that was lovely,” Tim said, smiling at Dip. “What a wonderful man you are. Jennifer hit the jackpot with you! I heartily approve.”
“I try,” he said, blushing.
Jennifer leaned over and kissed his cheek. “You don’t even have to try, and you’re still something mighty special, Dip Doody.”
I closed my eyes for a hot sec and sent a plea into the Universe. Please, let Jennifer and Dip stay together. I knew she was about to embark on an adventure like no other, but love could ground a person and keep them from dying inside.
“I say we play the terrible city game,” Tim announced. “Winner gets to take home the hors d’oeuvres!”
“Or we could play for cookies,” I suggested quickly. “Cause, you know, I think Heather is bringing Alana Catherine back later this evening, and she might be hungry.”
“Ahhhhhhhhhh,” Tim said, giving me a thumbs up. “I see where you’re going.”
“Wait,” Dip said, squinting at me. “Why would Heather wake up a baby in the middle of the night? Isn’t it better to let them sleep?”
“Normally, yes,” Gideon said, trying to sound like he knew what he was talking about. Since he was obviously pulling stuff out of his ass, I silently wished him luck. “But the latest sleep training method suggests waking the baby up every few hours for fresh air.”
Charlie winced and pressed the bridge of his nose. I stared at my knees. Poor Dip must think that we’re brain-damaged or just seriously shitty parents.
“Huh,” he said with a shrug. “That’s a new one.”
“Very,” Gideon confirmed.
“Game time,” June said, bouncing in her chair and changing the subject before Gideon dug a hole that would make Dip feel like he should alert child welfare services on us. “I’m usually so bad at these games, but I can compete tonight!”
Charlie looked at his wife and smiled. The love he had for her was so obvious.
In fact, everyone sitting here except for Tim was with their soulmate.
I stole a quick glance at my buddy and realized it didn’t bother him at all.
He was more of an asexual kind of guy—his words, not mine.
He took pleasure in his deep friendships.
And as far as friends went, he was the best. It was sad Jennifer couldn’t tell Dip that Tim was her father.
The age difference didn’t add up. Tim looked to be in his early forties—far younger than Jennifer even though he was older than dirt.
It wouldn’t make a lick of sense that Tim had fathered her.
Some secrets would have to stay secrets. Heck, all of our lives contained secrets. Deadly and dangerous secrets that would stay buried forever.
“I’ll start just in case someone steals the only few I know,” June said, handing out cookies.
Everyone partook. Her cookies were legendary and delicious.
“Go for it, friend,” Tim said.
June stood up, cleared her throat then giggled. “Hell, Michigan.”
“Good one,” Dip said. “How about Booger Hole, West Virginia.”
“That can’t be real,” Gideon said, grabbing a cookie.
“Oh yes,” Tim confirmed. “I’ve visited. Booger Hole has quite the history of murder dating back to the early 1900s. Nowadays it’s much calmer. However, it’s violent history attracts many ghost hunters. Quite interesting.”
“I got one,” Jennifer announced. “Ding Dong, Texas.”
“I do believe I can top that,” I told her with a grin. “Monkey’s Eyebrow, Kentucky.”
“Do you think people were inebriated when they named these cities?” June asked. “I mean, Hooker, Oklahoma couldn’t have been named by someone sober.”
“I’m going with a yes,” Jennifer said, raising her glass of wine in the air. “Cheers.”
“Back at you,” June said, clinking her glass then sipping on her white wine spritzer. “I only know one more, so I’m gonna say it. Good Grief, Idaho.”
“The only state in the USA where cannibalism is illegal,” Jennifer pointed out. “We should ship Shitty Ritchie out there. Safer for the world.”
Dip’s brow wrinkled. “Pretty sure that’s illegal everywhere. And who’s Shitty Ritchie?”
Jennifer was busted, but recovered quickly. “That guy from the TV show I watched as a kid.”
“They said shitty on a kids show?” Dip asked, even more confused.
“Umm… no,” June chimed in. “It was Itty Ritchie and all the kids liked to call him Shitty Ritchie, because…”
“He was kind of strange and rude… and umm,” I said, stumbling between the truth and the fiction that was being presented.
“And ate people, but not in Idaho… because you know, it’s illegal there,” June added then quickly shoved a cookie into her mouth so she couldn’t dig the hole any deeper.